


The connection between us

by IdontlikeIobsess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Stiles, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Hale fire, M/M, Magical!Derek, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a House, Top!Derek, Werewolves are also shapeshifters, alpha!Derek, baths, high school student!stiles, keep that in mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:12:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2723402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdontlikeIobsess/pseuds/IdontlikeIobsess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s beginning to walk away when he feels something shift behind him. The wind grows stronger and Stiles’ shirt sticks to his skin while his hair go crazy on his head. When he turns, the old, comfortable willow where Stiles spent a lot of days thinking and hiding from the rest of the world has the branches turned up towards the sky. They are glued together and they’re whirling at a crazy rhythm, lifting all the leaves from the ground. The earth under Stiles’ feet shakes.  The huge, knotty roots are fighting against the laws of nature to extricate themselves from the ground. They snap and whirl in the air, joining the same crazy, rotating rhythm of the branches, faster and faster until all Stiles can see is a blur of brown and green. Stiles scrambles back, terrified, protecting his face with his arms, trying not to be hit by something. He waits for what seems like hours, but eventually the clearing is silent again.</p><p>When Stiles finds the courage to look up, there’s a naked man right in front of him.</p><p>OR</p><p>Stiles hopes he's not crazy when he sees a tree turn into a man right in front of his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The connection between us

**Author's Note:**

> I was playing with the idea of werewolves being also shapeshifters, and this came to my mind. Not beta'd.

_Beacon Hills’ woods._

_November 22, 1898_

His whole house is burning down to the ground and all Derek can do is run, run, run. He can’t allow himself to think about his family now, not when he still has a chance to escape Katherine, the hunter who tormented the Hale’s pack for years. A branch cuts the soft skin of his cheek, but Derek can barely feel the burn of the wound. It heals just a few moments later. The ground is dry and hard under his feet. The winter has been particularly severe that year, and a thin layer of frozen ice covers the soil, creaking under Derek’s boots.

He shifts and runs faster, trying to get as far away as possible from Katherine, until he can’t feel the smell of ashes and burned skin anymore. When he reaches the large clearing he stops, listening if the hunters are coming for him. They’re close, but they haven’t spotted him, yet. He hears the sound of their footsteps and the soft bumps of their crossbows on their backs. Derek turns around in place, trying not to let fear block his mind. He has to hide, but he has to be quick. Derek falls to the ground on his knees, his hands connecting with the earth. He feels numb, all his feelings ripped away from the very centre of his heart: it’s like guilt, fear, panic, desperation left his body empty, not able to feel anything anymore. The only thing that he knows, that only thing that is keeping him sane in a moment like this, is that he doesn’t want to die: his family burned alive, but he got to live. He can’t waste their sacrifice by getting caught.

Then, an idea crosses his mind like a shooting star in the night. It’s risky, and it would mean to resort to a part of him that is so old that most werewolves have forgotten about it. But his family is—was— an old one, and his mother taught him about ancient werewolves’ magic, even if Derek never tried it before. He drags himself to the centre of the clearing and digs his fingers into the ground, trying to connect with the nature around him. He shifts back to his human form, closing his eyes and letting the wind ruffle his hair. Derek knows that what he thought earlier wasn’t entirely true. He can still feel something: a violent, blinding rage. He doesn’t want to die because he has to avenge his family. When he’ll be stronger and safe, he’ll find every hunter and he’ll rip their throat out with his teeth. He inhales the cold air of November and then exhales, focussing on the woods until he can feel every animal around him, every leaf blowing in the wind, dew drops wetting the flowers and the grass on the ground. He senses a family of deer running away from the heat of the fire, some birds returning to their nests on top of the trees. A fox is digging somewhere in the woods, trying to catch a hare. For the first time since he escaped the hunters, he feels powerful and not empty anymore. He has to hurry, though. Katherine and her family are coming for him.

Derek looks around one last time through his human eyes. This world doesn’t seem worthy of being looked at right now, anyway.

 

+++

 

_Beacon Hill’s woods._

_March 14, 2014._

Stiles is sitting under the willow. Its big branches full of green leaves shelter him from the sun and make him feel protected from the rest of the world. Everyone in Beacon Hills knows that Stiles is a pretty happy kid, always talking and laughing with everyone, but only a few people knows that in this particular day Stiles needs to be alone. It’s the anniversary of her death, and Stiles needs time and space to think about her, to remember her in every way he can. He can’t be with his Dad, not when he’s still trying to deal with his wife’s death in the only way he knows: working. Stiles touches the wood of the tree with his hands, drawing invisible patterns on it. He feels a kaleidoscope of feelings burning and twirling inside his chest, making him pant to breathe properly. When his phone buzzes in his pocket, Stiles ignores it, knowing that it’s probably Scott. He decides to leave his hiding place and go for a walk in the woods, hoping that it will help him clear his mind.

 He’s beginning to walk away when he feels something shift behind him. The wind grows stronger and Stiles’ shirt sticks to his skin while his hair go crazy on his head. When he turns, the old, comfortable willow where Stiles spent a lot of days thinking and hiding from the rest of the world has the branches turned up towards the sky. They are glued together and they’re whirling at a crazy rhythm, lifting all the leaves from the ground. The earth under Stiles’ feet shakes.  The huge, knotty roots are fighting against the laws of nature to extricate themselves from the ground. They snap and whirl in the air, joining the same crazy, rotating rhythm of the branches, faster and faster until all Stiles can see is a blur of brown and green. Stiles scrambles back, terrified, protecting his face with his arms, trying not to be hit by something. He waits for what seems like hours, but eventually the clearing is silent again.

When Stiles finds the courage to look up, there’s a naked man right in front of him.

 

+++

 

 “I really don’t get why these things always happen to you,” Sheriff Stilinski says when Stiles shows up at the hospital, where the stranger he met in the woods is sleeping in one of the rooms. Stiles had called the police after the man had puked and fainted before he could even say a word, and his father had spent twenty-four hours trying to figure out who the man was.

“That’s what I ask myself every night,” Stiles says. He pats his dad on the shoulder, comforting him. “How is he, by the way?”

“He’s doing fine. Melissa told me he was exhausted, but apart from that, he’s doing better than both of us. I couldn’t find out a thing about him, though. Are you sure he didn’t have any documents on him? That would be helpful.”

“Dad, I already told you. He was naked. Like, completely naked. I was in the woods and he appeared out of nowhere,” Stiles says. He can’t talk about how the man who is currently sleeping in the room in front of them was a fucking tree just a few hours ago. The Sheriff sighs, and to Stiles he looks ten years older. “He doesn’t seem to have a family looking for him. Maybe the right thing to do is wait for him to wake up.” 

Stiles nods. “Can I see him? I just want to make sure he’s okay. I was the one who found him, after all.”

His Dad doesn’t look convinced, but he relents when he looks at his son. His eyes are bright and curious, and he’s already walking towards the stranger’s room. “Just tell deputy Jones that I said you could go,” the Sheriff says, looking at the deputy in front of the stranger’s door.

When Stiles closes the door behind him, the man sleeping in the hospital bed looks like a completely different person from the one he saw in the woods. He’s wearing clothes now, and he’s considerably cleaner than the day before. He has dark hair and strong eyebrows, now relaxed with sleep. The man sighs in his sleep and shuffles a little, but doesn’t wake up. Stiles sits on the chair beside the bed, drinking in every single detail of the stranger’s face.

Stiles is sure of what he saw. He knew every root and every leaf of that willow and now the middle of the clearing is empty, only some big openings left where the roots used to be. How is it even possible? Stiles had tried to think about some logical explanation, but nothing came up. He’s so curious that he has to resist the urge to shake the stranger awake and  fire him the hundred questions running through his mind right now. Not only he wants to know what he saw, but he also wants a confirmation that he’s not crazy. What kind of person witnesses a tree turning into a human? Stiles stands up and walks closer to the bed. He eyes the outlines of the man’s body, noticing how firm and solid it seems to be. He looks at his perfect face and then down at one of his hands, the one closer to him. Without thinking, Stiles reaches out and intertwines his fingers with the stranger’s.

That’s when the man on the bed gasps and sits up, clasping at Stiles’ hand with so much strength that his fingers hurt and turn white. He looks around in panic and then seems to spot Stiles next to him. His eyes are huge and his mouth is moving, but no sound comes out. It seems like he’s trying to figure out how speaking works, and the movement of his lips make him seem like a gaping fish. When he finally talks, his voice is rough and scratchy.

“Who are you? Where am I? Where are the hunters? Are they gone?”

Stiles doesn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he squeezes tighter and tries to calm the man down. “Hi, I’m Stiles. You’re in an hospital and I don’t know what hunters you’re talking about but I can assure you that you’re safe here. You don’t have to worry.”

“I-what? What is this place?” the man says. He looks around and frowns at the bed and at the beeping machinery next to him. He looks down at his clothes and his face grows even more confused. “Is this something Katherine did? Everyone knew she was a witch, as well as an hunter.” This though seems to calm him down, and Stiles probably thinks it’s because he found a sort of logical explanation in his mind.

“I don’t know who Katherine is,” Stiles says. “Can you remember your name? My father is trying to track your family down.”

“I’m Derek Hale. My- my family is dead,” he whispers. “I- I’m really confused. I was running away from Katherine and now I’m in this strange place. Do you- do you know where we are?”

Stiles’ heart clenches in his chest. “We’re in Beacon Hills, California.”

Derek nods and his eyes grow sad, almost desperate. “That’s where my family died. Where I almost died.”

A single tear drops down his cheek, leaving a wet path on Derek’s skin. In that moment, Stiles decides that Derek is not ready for all the questions he has for him. “Why don’t you try to get some more sleep? The doctors said you were exhausted when I found you.”

“You found me?”

“Yeah. But I think we should talk about this some other time.”

Derek nods again. “Stiles?” he says, uncertain. When Stiles nods to encourage him, Derek talks again. “Are you sure I’m safe here? You- you don’t smell like an hunter.”

“I swear. I’ll stay right here while you sleep some more, okay?”

Before he can answer, Derek falls asleep. Stiles holds his hand until his Dad comes knocking on the door.

 

 

“Where is he going to stay?” Stiles asks that same night. His father is cooking dinner in the kitchen, and the whole house smells like curry. Stiles is caught up in his thoughts about Derek, distractedly watching some stupid reality show on the TV.

“I don’t know. I guess he can stay at the hospital for a little more and then he could stay at some motel here in Beacon Hills,” the Sheriff says.

“But Dad! He said he doesn’t have a family and he clearly doesn’t have the money to pay for a room at the motel! He needs some time to adjust before he can start any type of job!” Stiles protests. “Melissa said so, and she’s a doctor,” he adds when his dad shoots him an annoyed look. “And he seemed really scared when he woke up, Dad, I think someone was—or is— after him.”

“Well, it’s not like we can ask the people in Beacon Hills to adopt him! He’s a grown man.”

“Exactly! Who better than the Sheriff of Beacon Hills could welcome a stranger in his house? I mean, he’d be lost if someone doesn’t take care of him. What would he do? He’ll become a tramp or something.”

The Sheriff sighs. “You’re not going to let this one go, aren’t you?”

“Nope.”

 

+++

After that, Derek doesn’t talk anymore. He buries himself under the covers of the hospital bed and the nurses have to sedate him every time they need to check on him. Stiles makes Melissa move the TV in Derek’s room to another place, because Derek doesn’t seem to like the “little black box” and he keeps throwing things at it. Honestly, Stiles can’t afford to pay for another TV. When the Sheriff visits him, Derek seems to calm down a little, and at least he tries to act like some sort of normal person, but he stays silent and he never leaves his bed.

“Derek looked really sad today, Dad,” Stiles says when he visits the Sheriff at the station the next day. “I think he’s still very confused. It’s clear that he’s already worrying about what he could do next.”

The Sheriff ignores Stiles and eats his sandwich, reading through the newspaper.

“I tried to make him talk, but he keeps scowling and frowning at me. I think he’s lonely. He doesn’t have a family, you know-”

“Yeah, I know. You only mentioned it fifteen times.”

“Well, he doesn’t have anyone who knows him and who he could talk to. Also, he doesn’t remember anything before turning up in the forest and bumping into me. I think we could be friends, you know? If only Derek could stay around for a little longer...” Stiles sighs, looking carefully at his father. His plan to convince the Sheriff to let Derek Hale stay at their house has been going on for days, and even if the old man seems to be warming up to the idea, he still hasn’t said anything.

“He seems like a nice guy,” Stiles’ dad says. “A very confused guy, but nice nonetheless. He seemed interested in my uniform. Has he never seen a Sheriff?”

 _Probably no, if he spent half of his life as a fucking tree in the middle of the woods_ , Stiles thinks. “I don’t really know. Maybe he forgot about everything, even the little things.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“He needs someone who can make him remember.”

“Are you volunteering?”

Stiles nods with enthusiasm. “I can do it, Dad. Just give him a chance, please.”

The Sheriff nods and keeps eating his lunch.

 

+++

 

“He’ll start looking for a job as soon as he’s in condition.”

Stiles’ dad gives up one night while they’re driving to the hospital to see Derek. Stiles fist pumps in the air and resists the urge to hug his Dad because he really doesn’t want to cause a car crash. “And if he shows any signs of bad behaviour towards you, I’m kicking him out on the street. In the meantime, he can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

“You’re the best,” Stiles smiles. “The best dad in the whole world. I’m going to tell Derek the news,” he says, jumping out of the car when they arrive in the hospital’s parking lot. Derek is sitting on the bed when Stiles closes the door behind him. He’s reading a book, but he drops it when he sees Stiles.

“Ehy, Derek!” Stiles says. He sits on the edge of the bed and puts a comforting hand on Derek’s leg. “Good book?”

Derek looks at him but doesn’t respond, so Stiles sighs and sits cross-legged at the end of the bed, facing Derek. They haven’t talked since the first time Derek woke up, because Derek simply refuses to open his mouth. Not that such an inconvenient has stopped Stiles, of course. He visited Derek every day, talking his ear off about everything he could think of.

“So, I have something to tell you. Something important, so you might want to prepare yourself. Okay, I talked to my Dad about you a lot during this past few days and we were wondering where you could go after leaving the hospital...”

Derek’s face grows sad. He closes the book on his legs and moves under the covers, so that Stiles can only see his face. Stiles takes Derek’s hand. If he knows one thing about Derek, is that he doesn’t back away from physical contact. He closes his eyes when Stiles touches him and breathes deep.

“...so I suggested you could come live with us! If you want to. If you’d like to? I don’t know, I’m just offering, but of course it will be your own decision in the end. We have a pretty big guest room, so you won’t have to-”

“Are you serious?” Derek’s voice sounds raspy and hoarse, probably because he hasn’t talked in days. He squeezes Stiles’ hand and looks at him, waiting for an answer, but Stiles can only stare at him.

“Now you’re talking?”

Derek shrugs. “When someone is offering you a home, the least you could do is answer them.”

Stiles laughs, startled. “Of course I’m serious. My Dad, too. We’re both very serious about this. You could stay with us until you find some kind of job and get back on track.”

Derek sags against the bed and closes his eyes, sighing. “Katherine threw me in a crazy world.”

“Yeah, about that. I don’t think she threw you anywhere,” Stiles says. He pauses, insecure, looking at Derek. He’s afraid that Derek will think he’s crazy, and he’d have every right to. “I- when I found you in the woods you weren’t exactly human. I’m not crazy, okay? I’m just telling you what I saw. You were a fucking tree, dude! A willow. And in a moment you were right in front of me, naked like the first day you were born.”

Derek’s eyes grow impossibly huge. “What? Are you serious? Do you mean-” he pauses, looking around the room and then finally at Stiles. “Do you mean I made it?”

“What are you talking about?”

Derek tells him the whole story. How Katherine and her hunters killed his entire family and tried to kill him, too. He was alone in the middle of the woods, and the hunters had almost caught him, when Derek though about who he was and what he was able to do.

“What exactly are you able to do?” Stiles asks.

Derek is silent again. He looks at Stiles from under his lashes and his face grows insecure. “Maybe you should  get away from me,” he says. When Stiles scowls and refuses to leave the bed, Derek makes sure no one is coming to his room for the last time before he shifts. There’s fur on his face now, his hears are pointy and his teeth are—fangs.  Stiles scrambles back, almost falling down of the bed.

“What the hell?” Stiles says. “What-- Are you a werewolf?”

Derek nods. “I come from a very old family of werewolves. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” he says, shifting back to his human form. “When we shift, we become werewolves because that’s our nature—the wolf is a big part of who we are. Centuries ago though, we had a connection with nature so deep that we could shift into whatever we wanted, as long as it was something connected with nature. We could be a flower, a rock, a water drop on the grass-”

“Or a tree.” Stiles stops him, shuffling back near Derek.

“We’re werewolves, but we’re also shape shifters,” Derek says. “With time, the majority of us lost this power. My family knew about it, but none of us ever tried. I- I still don’t know how I shifted into a tree. I’m still having a hard time remembering what happened between the fire and the moment I saw you, so I thought my memories were lost. But now I understand.”

“Understand what?”

“I need time. I spent the last— Wait, what year is it?”Derek asks.

“2014.”

“Fuck,” Derek whispers. “I spent the last 116 years as a tree. My memories will come back sooner or later. I think I’ll remember everything in the end.”

“Oh, thank god. I’m not crazy, then. This is such a relief, dude, you have no idea. I was already thinking about how much money I would have needed to lock me up in Eichen House.”

“I understand only half of the things you say.”

“Trust me, you’re not the only one.”

 

+++

 

Stiles takes a day off from school to make sure Derek settles in because his dad has a shift at the station. Stiles can see that Derek is still weak, but at least he’s walking now, only wobbling a little when they get out of the Jeep. What Stiles isn’t expecting, is Derek throwing up on his driveway and turning a worrying shade of green.

“Derek? What the hell are you doing?”

“I told you I didn’t trust this thing! What the hell is a Jeep, anyway?”

Derek had hated the trip back from the hospital, but it wasn’t like they could have walked. “Ehy, don’t insult my baby. My car is old but safe, trust me. You’ll get used to it,” Stiles says. “ I know you’ve probably never seen a car go this fast, but it’s okay, I’m a pretty good driver.”

“I won’t touch this thing ever again.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Fine. Let’s go inside.”

Stiles makes sure that Derek isn’t overwhelmed by his twenty first- century house. When he turns, Derek has shifted into a werewolf and is growling at the TV, his eyes a bloody shade of red. Stiles grabs him by the elbow and makes him sit down on the couch, trying to calm him down.

“Derek? Calm down, okay? I swear there’s nothing dangerous in this house,” Stiles says. “Look, that’s the television. Like the one you had at the hospital, you know? But this is bigger and better, trust me.”

“I hate this thing. What does it do, anyway?”

Stiles turns the TV on, trying not to laugh when Derek flinches and scoots closer to him on the couch. “You can use it to watch movies—like at the theatre, you know? With this, you can watch the actors whenever you want... and you can even adjust the volume,” Stiles says, fumbling with the remote. “You can also use it to listen to music,” he explains, switching to the music channels.

“What is this?” Derek yells over the music, covering his ears with his hands. “That’s not music!”

Stiles ignores him and turns the TV off. “That is a laptop,” he says, pointing at his computer on the coffee table. “It’s like a little TV, but you can also use it to look up information about everything. Like, did you ever had to do a research?”

Derek nods but doesn’t look away from the black screen of the television, like he’s afraid something might walk out of it. “Yeah, I studied at home and my mum gave us little assignments every week. I always used this huge encyclopedia that smelled like dust.”

“Exactly! The only difference is that you won’t need the books anymore! You can do your research using the computer.”

“But I liked the books.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Fine. I guess you can use books,” he says. “Are you okay? Are you ready to see the rest of the house?”

Derek grabs Stiles’ hand and stands up from the couch. “Show me.”

It’s hard to explain to Derek that his house has only one small kitchen and that he has no maids to make him lunch. Derek sniffs everything from the coffee machine to the oven, and his eyes grow curious when Stiles shows him the fridge.

“I had something like this at my house. It was smaller and it smelled different... I can’t really explain, though,” Derek says.

“It was probably the first version of the fridges we use now,” Stiles explains.

They sit at the table and share a bottle of water before Stiles takes him upstairs and shows him his bedroom. Derek seems more at ease there, sniffing the bed with interest and looking at Stiles piles of comic books in every corner. He sits on the bed and looks at Stiles’ posters on the walls, at the bulletin board full of sticky notes, at the dirty socks on the floor.

“Your room is a mess,” Derek says in the end. “But I think I like it. It smells—good.”

“Yeah, you’re probably sniffing my lacrosse uniform right now, and I’m sorry. Anyway, my dad has his bedroom at the end of the hallway and your bedroom is right next to mine. I can show you, if you want.”

Derek shakes his head and yawns. “No. I- I think I’m good here for now,” he says. He lays down on Stiles’ bed and gets under the covers, throwing away his shoes before he slips in. “Do you mind?”

It’s not like Stiles can say no when Derek has his eyes already half-closed. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll be downstairs, okay? Call me if you need anything.”

He closes the blinds and shuts the door beside him, throwing one last glance at Derek. _Werewolves_ , Stiles thinks. He shakes his head in disbelief. At least he’s not crazy.

 

+++

 

_Beacon Hill’s woods._

_May 30, 2013._

_Stiles bangs his head against the willow in frustration. Damn, he had been so stupid to think that Lydia Martin would accept to be his girlfriend now that Jackson had left for somewhere in Europe. She had turned him down with all the kindness in the world and made him promise that they will stay friends, and Stiles had said yes, but now he doesn’t feel so sure anymore._

_God, he just wants someone to spend his time with when all his friends are doing something romantic with their dates. Maybe he should ask Danny. Stiles thinks he could be attractive to gay guys._

+++

 

On Saturday, Stiles wakes up in the guest bedroom. Derek refused to sleep in a bed that wasn’t Stiles’, and he fell asleep before Stiles could even protest. When he walks downstairs, Derek is eating pancakes with the Sheriff, talking quietly in the soft morning light. For once, Stiles’ dad has left the local newspaper on the edge of the kitchen’s table and he’s so caught up in his conversation with Derek that he doesn’t notice Stiles until he sits right next to him.

“What are you talking about?” Stiles asks, picking one pancake from the plate.

“Derek was telling me he knows how to play chess. I have to go to the station now, but we could play when I’m back,” the Sheriff says, smiling into his cup of coffee. Derek nods, shooting an amused look at Stiles. “It would be great.”

When the Sheriff leaves for work, Derek swallows all the remaining pancakes under Stiles’ worried scrutiny. He drinks an entire bottle of water and two cups of coffee before he seems satisfied.

“Don’t worry,” Derek says. “Werewolves eat a lot more than humans.”

“Really?” Stiles asks, curious. “Oh my god, you have to show me what you can do! Like, can you shift into a real wolf?”

“No, that’s something only a few werewolves can do.”

“So, what can _you_ do?”

Derek smiles and ducks his head down. “Do you really want to know?”

“No, I have a real werewolf in my house—because apparently werewolves are a thing—but I don’t want to have anything to do with you,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not curious at all, I don’t care if you-”

Derek shifts and his eyes turn red. He growls and Stiles yelps, almost falling down of his chair. He can hear Derek’s laugh on the other side of the table, so he refuses to blush. “Very funny, Derek.”

“I think it might be better if we go to the woods,” Derek says. “I don’t want to scar your neighbours for life.”

They go to the clearing where Stiles first saw Derek. There are still the huge holes in the ground left by the roots, but the rest is exactly the same. Derek kneels down and digs his hands in the topsoil, closing his eyes.

“This is where I stopped when Katherine was after me,” Derek says. “I was so angry and I wanted to kill every single hunter, but I knew I was too weak. My family was dead and I couldn’t do anything.”

Stiles drops down next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Ehy, you had to save yourself, okay? I know it’s hard to accept, but you couldn’t do anything for you family,” Stiles says. Derek looks up at him with the tiniest bit of hope in his eyes, and Stiles can’t help but smile at him. “Do you- do you maybe want to see your old house? I did some research yesterday while you were sleeping and an old article on the Beacon Hills Magazine was about this house in the middle of the woods. I think it might be it.”

Derek shakes his head. “Maybe another day? I think it might be too much.”

“O-of course. Sorry I even asked, it was stupid,” Stiles says, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. “I’m sorry, I should think before I open my mouth.”

Derek smiles a little. “Do you still want to see what werewolves can do?”

“Hell yeah!”

Derek stands up, smirks down at Stiles, and then disappears. Stiles gets on his feet and looks around, trying to catch a glimpse of Derek, but he sees nothing.

“Up here.”

Stiles looks up until his gaze falls on the tallest tree of the clearing. Derek is sitting cross-legged on a branch like it’s the easiest thing in the world. When Stiles spots him, he jumps down and walks closer to Stiles with his hands behind his back.

“What are you hiding?” Stiles asks. He can feel a twist of excitement running through his body and he knows that his eyes are bright and happy in that moment. Derek smiles and stops in front of Stiles, showing him what he’s holding. It’s a bright-colored bird, chirping in Derek’s hand like it has found a new, comfortable nest. Its beak is a light orange and it’s eating something in Derek’s hand.

“Derek, it’s beautiful!”

“I know, right?” Derek says. He frees the bird when it’s done eating and then looks at Stiles with amusement. “I can also hear everything that’s going on in a five miles radius and I’m stronger and faster than every man could ever be. I’m also an Alpha, so I’m stronger even than an average werewolf,” Derek says, his eyes red. “I heal fast—except if it’s wolfsbane. I can smell everything, even your emotions right now.”

“Oh, fuck,” Stiles whispers. He’s having a hard time keeping at bay his hard-on, but there’s nothing he can do when Derek is right in front of him. “That’s so cool, man. My friend Scott would freak out if he knew about werewolves.”

They sit on the soft grass of the clearing and lay down under the sun. “I still don’t know why I shifted back into a human, but I’m glad I did. Once I turned into a tree, I couldn’t shift back, you know? Life was slow and calm, and the only thing I wanted was the sun on my branches.”

“So you’re starting to remember?”

“Bits and pieces,” Derek says. “Stiles—thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

“Ehy, don’t worry. You are the coolest thing that ever happened to me! I mean, you’re a werewolf. Really, I should be thanking you for brightening up my dull life!”

“I’m sure your life wasn’t dull before me.”

“Oh, trust me, it was. It’s not like I’m complaining or something, but before you it was just me and Scott. We were both losers that nobody wanted to date. But now Scott has a girlfriend and I’m still single. He- he’s having a lot of sex and I’m happy for him – I really am!— but I’d still like someone who liked me back enough, you know?”

“Is sex so important to you?” Derek says, looking at Stiles. “Stiles, you’re not supposed to sleep with anybody until you’re married!”

Stiles snorts and props himself up on his elbows. “Did you wait?” Derek’s ears turns red and he blushes under the sun. “Well, I didn’t. But my sisters did.”

“Or so they said.”

Derek laughs. “Yeah, you’re probably right. There’s no way they were still virgins.”

When Stiles’ stomach growls, they walk back to Beacon Hills to eat something. “You’re going to need new clothes,” Stiles says. “Mine are too tight for you.”

 

+++

 

Derek buys new clothes and Stiles almost has an heart attack when he tries them on. Apparently, Derek likes leather because it smells good and he also likes sweaters for the way they feel on his skin. He buys the tightest pairs of jeans that Stiles has ever seen, and when they walk out of the mall, more than one woman turns back to ogle Derek’s ass.

Stiles is not jealous.

 

+++

 

“Stiles?”

The voice is familiar and somehow comforting, but Stiles can’t exactly place it when he wakes up in the middle of the night, his eyes still half-closed. He sees a silhouette on the door, and then someone steps into his bedroom, walking closer to the bed.

“Derek?” Stiles says, sitting up on the mattress. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, I—I couldn’t sleep. I had a nightmare about Katherine and her hunters.”

“Oh. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Derek says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He seems unsure and hesitant, like he doesn’t really know why he’s standing there. Then, Stiles understands.

“Do you want to jump in? I mean, the bed is pretty-”

“Thank you,” Derek says, relieved, lifting the covers and sliding next to Stiles. “I’m sorry. It’s just that-”

“Yeah, I know. My bed smells better. Maybe it’s because nobody ever sleeps in the guest bedroom?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Derek says. He turns on his side, facing Stiles. “Thank you, anyway,” he says, sniffing the covers. He throws an arm over Stiles’ hip and closes his eyes. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

“Goodnight, Derek.”

 

+++

 

Maybe Stiles made a mistake. He should have never let Derek sleep in his bed, because now he’s under Stiles’ covers all the time. Sometimes he’s dressed, sometimes he’s only in his sweatpants. One glorious time, Stiles finds him naked and almost faints. They sleep together every night and the worst thing is that Stiles’ dad doesn’t say anything about it when he finds Derek buried under the covers, an expression so content on his face that it would be cruel to wake him up. Sometimes they sleep from the moment they hit the bed, sometimes they talk until the sun rises and Stiles has to go to school, wearing his sleep-deprived face. One night, they’re talking about Scott and Stiles’ tiny circle of friends when Derek whispers, “I remember about you.”

“Well, I’m glad. You’ve been living under my roof for two weeks, now. We even share a bed.”

“No, I mean. I remember you from when I was a tree. When I wasn’t myself.”

Stiles’ heart sinks. “Oh, god. What do you remember?”

“You—I’m sorry about your Mom, Stiles. It’s weird, but... I remember her. Well, I don’t remember her, but I know her face and I know about every little thing you did together. How is this even possible?”

“I-I don’t know. What do you mean you know about me and my Mom? Tell me,” Stiles demands.

“That time you told her about your crush on Lydia, back in third grade. The time your Mom organized a surprise party for your Dad’s birthday and you were so happy to help her. The time she made you the perfect Halloween costume. I don’t know how, but I feel like I know her. I remember her face and the way she used to be around people. I-”

“Stop,” Stiles says. “Derek, do you even know what you’re talking about? These are my memories. I-I don’t think my father even knows about some of those things.”

“That’s not it, Stiles.”

“What else?” Stiles says. He props himself up on his elbows and looks down at Derek. “Tell me. I have the right to know.”

“I know about how Scott fell in love with Allison from the first moment he met her. How you were happy for your best friend, but you also felt kind of lonely. I—I don’t know if I should go on.”

“ _Derek_.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he huffs. “I know you have been in love with Lydia Martin for years. Worse, I never saw Lydia Martin in my life, but I know she has red hair-”

“Strawberry-blonde, actually.”

“-and that she’s as smart as you.  I never saw Scott or Allison, but I know how much you love them and all the things you went through together. I’m still trying to understand why all these things came back to me a few nights ago.”

Stiles flops back down on the bed, shuffling a little closer to Derek. “It must have been weird for you. I mean, knowing all these facts about a person you barely know.”

“That’s the thing,” Derek says, looking away from Stiles. He looks uncomfortable and almost shy, but he clears his throat and forces himself to speak. “I feel like I’ve known you for years.”

 

+++

_Beacon Hill’s woods._

_October 7, 2011._

_The hard wood of the willow is a comforting feeling under Stiles’ hands. He rests his back against the tree’s trunk, letting it take his weight. He tries not to feel jealous, but he can’t really help it. Stiles learnt a long time ago that he’s not a perfect person and that he’s allowed to feel everything he needs. Or at least, his shrink said so._

_He also feels guilty, because Allison is Scott’s first girlfriend ever and his best friend deserves someone as good as him. The only thing is that he and Stiles don’t spend so much time alone anymore. He only really sees Scott at school, but even then Allison is always around, giggling and talking to Lydia._

_Stiles sighs and wonders if he’ll ever find someone who will like him just as he is or if he will end up alone like Jackson Whittemore keeps saying._

 

+++

 

When Stiles comes back from school, Derek is reading on his bed, buried under the blankets.

“Dude, you have your own bed,” Stiles says, sitting beside Derek and dropping his backpack on the floor.

“I like yours better,” Derek says. “The smell—it’s comforting. I already told you that, Stiles.”

“Well, I’m sorry, my Alpha,” Stiles says. Derek snorts without glancing away from the book. “I’m sorry I’m the one to drop this bomb to you but... you’re starting to smell. Like, really bad.”

Derek looks up and scowls at him. “I don’t smell. And I don’t like your _shower_. It’s small and I feel trapped in it. It feels like I’m drowning.”

“You’re the most chicken-hearted werewolf I’ve ever known.”

“I’m the only one you’ve ever known.”

“Yeah, don’t try to deflect. I told you there’s a tub in the guest bathroom.”

Derek blushes and closes the book, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t know how to fill it,” he says.

Stiles rolls his eyes and tries not to smile at Derek’s embarrassment, even if he’s sure Derek can feel his amusement from miles. “Stupid, stupid, wolf. You could have asked. Come on, let’s go!” he says, disappearing from his room and walking down the corridor. Derek follows him to the guest bathroom without a word, and once they’re inside he looks curiously at Stiles while he fiddles with the knobs to make sure the water is warm enough. He fills the tub and then turns to Derek, who’s now standing naked in the middle of the bathroom.

“What the fuck?” Stiles yells, covering his eyes with his hands. It takes him a whole second to admit that he doesn’t have the willpower to not look at Derek. He sneaks a peek between his fingers and tries to hide his blush. “Derek, what are you doing?”

Derek looks unsure for a second. “Do you take a bath with your clothes on, in this century?”

“No! I mean, you could have waited until you were alone.”

“You’ve already seen me naked.”

 _Oh, yes_ , Stiles thinks, _And it was glorious._ “Okay, I’ll go now.”

“No!” Derek says. He stops Stiles by his elbow, dragging him back. “It’s been years since I last had a real bath. Can you please stay? I-I don’t know how I’ll react.”

“The wolfy is afraid of the water?”

“I’m not a cat, Stiles.”

Even if Derek tries not to show it, it’s clear he’s overwhelmed by the warm water around him. He touches the water like it’s something magical and he plays with the soap without actually using it. He smiles when the soap slips between his hands and disappears under the water.

“Derek, what are you doing?” Stiles says. He’d watch Derek take a bath for ages, but he has homework to do and dinner to buy, so it’s not like he has the whole day. “Clean yourself.”

“Just a moment, Stiles. I forgot how good a bath could feel.”

Stiles sighs and sits on the edge of the tub, looking as Derek lays down with his eyes closed. “You could always join me and help me bathe,” Derek says, smirking. “But I’m afraid you’re a prude.”

“I-what? I’m not a prude, dude!” Stiles splutters. He rids himself of his clothes except for his boxers and looks straight at Derek. “I’ll show you how much of a prude I am,” he says, sliding inside the tub. Stiles hisses when the warm water touches his skin, but he sits between Derek’s legs and lays with his back against the ceramic of the tub. “See?”

“You still have your boxers on,” Derek says, half-opening his eyes.

“Well, I like to think that my junk is private property until someone actually wants to see it. Until then, I’ll keep it to myself.”

Derek looks down at the water and blushes. “Fine,” he says.

“Come on, turn around. I guess you’re not going to clean yourself on your own,” Stiles says. He grabs the sponge and waits for Derek to sit on his knees and turn. When Derek is no longer looking at him, Stiles starts rubbing his back, spreading the loation on his skin. He hears Derek hum in the silence of the bathroom, but then he’s quiet again.

“So, I think my dad is not-so-secretly excited to have you here. He said he finally has someone good enough to play chess with,” Stiles says. He moves the sponge to Derek’s shoulders and neck, and Derek tilts his head so Stiles has a better access.

“I used to play with my family,” Derek says. “Your dad is a good player. He won a few games.”

“Derek, he knows you let him win,” Stiles chuckles. “He told me you left your Queen far too exposed. Don’t worry, though. He likes to win almost as much as I do. Turn around.”

Derek turns until he’s facing Stiles again, spreading his legs along the tub. Stiles tries not to look down at where Derek’s cock is, and thankfully the water is soapy enough to cover it. He sits between Derek’s legs and starts rubbing at his chest. Derek’s eyes flutter shut when Stiles touches him, and he closes his legs a little bit, holding Stiles in place. Stiles washes Derek’s belly and then sets the sponge on the edge of the tub, looking everywhere but at Derek.

“You can...uhm...you can wash your you-know-what by yourself,” Stiles stutters, blushing like a little girl. In front of him, Derek’s smile turns predatory. “Really, Stiles? You can’t even say the proper word?”

“What? I- it’s not like that!”

“How is it, then?”

“I just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable!” Stiles says, raising his hands. He tries to slide away from Derek, but he’s been held in place by the werewolf’s legs.

“Stiles, we’re in a tub together. Don’t you think that if I was uncomfortable I would have already left?” Derek asks. He stretches his arms and puts on hand on Stiles forearm. “You really are a prude.”

“I’m not a prude! Maybe it’s just—it’s not like I have a lot of experience, okay? I told you! Nobody wants to date me!” Stiles says, his voice turning a little hysterical. “And I know my Dad would say that I shouldn’t care about those things, but I do, okay? I’m an eighteen-years-old boy and I’ve never even been kissed! And now I officially sound pathetic.”

Derek is not smiling anymore. “It’s normal to think about kisses—and sex. But it’s not a competition. You have all the time in the world.”

“Yeah, right. When did you have your first kiss?”

“Ehm...when I was fifteen.”

“See? I’m a lost cause,” Stiles says, sinking down in the water again.

Derek rolls his eyes. “You’re so melodramatic,” he says. “If it’s so important to you, I could show you.”

“Show me what?”

“I could kiss you. So you can’t go around and say that you’ve never been kissed,” Derek says, leaning a little towards Stiles. The water moves with his body, and Stiles is suddenly hypnotized by the little waves that run until they hit his chest. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Come on, move closer.”

Stiles is frozen in place, so is Derek who slides closer, his body just a few inches away from Stiles’. It’s like Stiles can feel the heat radiating from Derek’s body, and he tries hard not to think about Derek’s cock underwater.

“No tongue, yet,” Derek says. “Just let yourself get used to the feeling,” he explains. He places one hand on Stiles’ neck and brushes Stiles’ lips, locking their mouths together. Stiles gasps, letting his mouth fall open, but Derek just keeps brushing their lips together, biting down on Stiles’ lower lips when the boy won’t seem to close his mouth. “Tilt your head a little,” Derek says. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Can I use my tongue, now?”

Derek growls. “Fine. Go easy,” he says. Stiles doesn’t know easy or slow though, so their tongues slide together in a heated kiss, much more than Derek was expecting from a virgin eighteen-years-old.  Stiles finally moves his arms to lock his hands behind Derek’s neck, moving their bodies closer together. He hums, moaning a little when Derek bites down on his lip again. When Derek pulls away, Stiles nearly whines.

“No, where are you going? I think I still have something to learn.”

“You don’t need any more practice. Are you sure this was your first kiss?” Derek says, smiling at Stiles’ confused face.

“I saw a lot of—movies,” Stiles says. He knows that Derek can hear he’s lying, and Stiles is so thankful that he hasn’t explained the joys of porn to Derek, yet. _This is not fair_ , Stiles thinks. _Now I want to do it all over again._ “Right. I’m gonna get out. Do you think you can survive in the tub alone, now?”

“I’ll try,” Derek says, eying Stiles’ body as he steps out of the tub. He doesn’t say a word about Stiles’ evident hard-on or about his flushed skin because he doesn’t want to upset him, but he can’t stop thinking about Stiles’ soft and pale skin all day.

 

+++

 

“So, Derek,” the Sheriff says, putting his feet on the coffee table and making himself comfortable on the couch. “What’s your favourite movie? Stiles told me about this Netflix thing. We could watch something together,” he says, elbowing his son in the ribs, proud of his knowledge about something so modern.

“Uhm... I don’t really remember,” Derek says, trying to hide in the armchair just beside the couch where Stiles and the Sheriff are.

 _I don’t remember_. That has been Derek most frequent answer in the last few weeks. He knows that the Sheriff is only trying to know him better and to help him with his terrible case of amnesia, and Derek can’t really blame him for that. The problem is, Derek didn’t even know what a movie was until Stiles told him the first time Derek walked into the Stilinski’s house. For the Sheriff, Derek doesn’t remember about his past life, about his favourite movies or favourite books. He doesn’t remember if he had a job somewhere or if he was dating anyone.

“Right,” the Sheriff says. “I talked to Melissa yesterday. She said your amnesia is a weird one. You remembered your name and—well, about your family. She can’t explain why you won’t seem able to remember everything else.”

Derek can feel Stiles tense up on the couch. They share a terrified look before Derek can calm down enough to answer. The Sheriff doesn’t seem suspicious after all, just curios. Just like Stiles is all the time.

“I can’t explain that either, sir,” Derek says, hoping that Stiles’ dad will buy that.

“Maybe he remembered about his family because—well, because it was something few of us could really forget. And maybe he remembers his name because it’s part of who he is. You can’t lose who you are,” Stiles interjects, switching channels on the TV. He decides for a sport match, and he doesn’t miss the glint in Derek’s eyes when he recognizes a game of basketball.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” the Sheriff says. “Sorry about that, Derek. I didn’t want to upset you.”

Derek shakes his head. “No problem at all.”

It turns out that Derek _loves_ movies. He’s so overwhelmed by the sounds and the bright colours and the special effects, that he stares at the little black box until the credits roll down on the screen and Stiles’ dad is already asleep on the couch. Derek accepts to leave the armchair only when Stiles promises him that they’ll watch another movie the next night.

“If you like movies so much, you’ll love this,” Stiles say when the Sheriff has gone to sleep. He shoves an I-pod into Derek’s hand and watches as Derek sits on the couch and fumbles with the little headphones. “You can listen to music with it. Just—put the headphones in your ears.”

Derek follows the movement of Stiles’ hand to his ear, and then picks at the headphones and places them in his ears. Stiles shows him how to turn the I-pod on and how to scroll through the songs, and Derek learns so fast it’s almost surprising. He lays with his back propped against the couch and closes his eyes, listening to some song that Stiles can’t really hear.

“What kind of music is this?” Derek says. “Do you even define this song as _music_?” he says, but he’s tapping his feet against the floor and he’s moving his head without really thinking about it, so Stiles thinks he’s enjoying it.

“Yeah, it must be very different from what you were used to,” Stiles says. He leans closer to Derek to hear the song he’s listening to. Katy Perry’s _Firework_ is blasting through the headphones, and Stiles smiles at Derek when he starts humming in rhythm.

Derek cracks an eye open and looks at Stiles. “Do you want to listen?”

Stiles nods. “I’d like that.”

Derek gives him one headphone and they rearrange themselves on the couch, but Stiles can’t seem to find a comfortable position. He shuffles and moves until Derek stops him with one hand. “Stop moving. I want to listen to the song,” he says, putting one arm across Stiles’ shoulders and pulling him closer. Stiles ends up with his head on Derek’s chest, listening to the stupid pop songs he put on his I-pod years ago. Derek’s still humming when Stiles finally falls asleep.

 

+++

 

Derek forces Stiles to put new songs on the I-pod when he listens to the whole play-list.

“It’s not like you can only listen to a song once. You can play them again,” Stiles tries to explain, already booting up his laptop. “You can pause them and adjust the volume. You can listen to the first ten seconds and then change the song. You can do whatever you want.”

Derek refuses to listen to him and tells Stiles which songs he likes and which he doesn’t want to listen twice when Stiles shows him how YouTube works. By the end of the day Derek has an I-pod full of brand new songs and a silly smile on his face.

“Can I keep the I-pod for a while?” Derek asks. He looks almost sure that Stiles will say no.

“I don’t know, dude,” Stiles says. “All you do all day is play chess with my Dad and use me for your own good. I don’t know if you really deserve it. I mean, you’re the most boring werewolf I’ve ever known. You can do whatever you want, but you seem content to just sit on my bed all day.”

Derek snorts. “I already showed you what I can do,” he says. “And I thought I could use it while I run.”

“You run?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “When?” Stiles asks.

“Every morning while you’re in school,” Derek answers. He puts the I-pod on Stiles’ desk and plops down on Stiles’ bed. “I’m also looking for a job. But I still haven’t found something I can do.”

“It’s normal. You still have to get used to this...age,” Stiles says, sitting next to Derek. “Maybe try showing up all dirty and sweaty from your run. I’ll bet everyone will give you a job if you look like I think you do.”

Derek shoves him off the bed and Stiles falls to the ground with a loud thud.

 

+++

 

_Beacon Hills’ woods._

_September 3, 2009._

_Stiles feels so happy that his heart is banging hard against his ribs and his cheeks are a soft shade of pink. He has a silly smile on his lips and he can’t stop moving. He sits under his willow and tries to read some of the assigned reading he has for the next day, fishing a book out of his backpack, but he can’t concentrate._

_Lydia Martin waved at him!_

_This is a glorious day, Stiles thinks. When he looks up, the sky seems to be on his same page, because it’s blue and without a cloud in sight. The birds are chirping on the trees and Stiles feels so happy he could sing his heart out. He doesn’t, though. He wants to think about Lydia Martin and her perfect strawberry-blonde hair for a little bit more._

 

+++

 

“I found a job,” Derek says the next night, during dinner. The sheriff and Stiles look up from their plates and share a perplexed look, while Derek plays with his food for a little while.

“What kind of job?” the Sheriff asks.

“I work at the local library, now,” Derek explains. “I have to take care of the books and help the people who are looking for something in particular.”

Stiles’ eyes grow wide. “That’s great, Derek,” the Sheriff says.

“I know I won’t be able to find a place of my own for a while, but I can start paying you back for all you did for me,” Derek says, looking down at his dinner. “I can buy my own food. I can contribute with the...bills? I can pay for Stiles’...uhm...gas when he uses the Jeep to take me somewhere. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Oh, shut up,” the Sheriff says. “You’ve been nothing but great during this past few weeks, and I’m sure Stiles thinks the same. I’m happy you found a job, but don’t feel obligated to run away, yet. I mean, unless...”

“...unless you want to,” Stiles finishes. “We’re not kicking you out, Derek. You can stay.”

Derek nods and finally looks up. “Thank you.”

 

“You totally did what I said!” Stiles says when they’re alone in his bedroom.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek says, shimming out of his jeans and putting on his sweatpants. Stiles doesn’t even try not to stare, because he’s sure that Derek has noticed his curious eyes by now, anyway. Apparently, Derek feels so comfortable in Stiles’ bed that he doesn’t even put on a shirt anymore. He sleeps shirtless and Stiles has to use all his willpower not to touch _everything_.

“Please. I can’t believe you found a job overnight without a little help. I know the lady who works at the library’s desk. She’s old-”

“She’s forty.”

“...and she desperately needs a man. Derek, are you ready to be that man?”

Derek scowls and Stiles cracks up. He laughs and laughs until he can’t breathe anymore and Derek is looming over him on the bed, an amused expression on his face. “She said I would have attracted the young girls in town. She said they only read stupid magazines.”

“Yeah, right,” Stiles says. He looks up and bats his eyelashes at Derek. “Can I come visit you at work?  I really need a good book, now that I think about it.”

“No, you can’t,” Derek says. “I’ll have to use a computer, by the way. Only to file books in. Do you think you can teach me how to do it in a week?”

Stiles nods. “I’ll totally come and visit you.”

 

+++

 

It’s not like Stiles doesn’t notice the looks Derek gives him sometimes, but he’s a rational person and, deep inside, knows that he’s  pretty much the only young person Derek knows in town, so it’s not like Stiles has a lot of competition for Derek’s attention. When they sleep in Stiles’ bed, Derek pulls him closer to his chest and breathes into his hair, like he’s trying to calm himself down. When they wake up, Stiles has to fight Derek to get out of bed every morning, because the werewolf can’t seem to let him go. When Derek starts the new job, things get a little more intense. They don’t spend so much time together as they used to, and it’s like Derek needs Stiles even more. Every night, after they washed the dishes and the Sheriff has gone to bed or to the station, Stiles stretches out on top of Derek on the couch to listen to some music on the I-pod. It’s something so simple and yet so natural between them, that Stiles always tries his best not to fall asleep the second he puts his head on Derek’s chest. Every time, Derek carries him to bed and lays down beside him, adjusting the covers over them. They don’t talk until sunrise anymore, because Derek has to work in the morning and Stiles’ graduation is getting closer, so his teachers are meaner than ever.

But they touch before they fall asleep. Stiles strokes Derek’s arm and Derek draws small circles on Stiles’ hip, and they smile at each other until one of them closes his eyes. For the first time in his life, Stiles feels _wanted_. He’s thrilled to know that Derek is waiting for him downstairs when he finishes his homework and he can’t believe that Derek wants to spend time with Stiles voluntarily. It’s almost like they’re in a relationship, but at the same time it’s not.

Derek is special and different in so many different ways that Stiles can’t even begin to list the reasons why they can’t be together. They can share a bed, sure. They can listen to the same music every night. But Stiles fears the day when Derek will be stronger and ready to face this new world and will finally leave the place that holds so many bad memories for him.

 

+++

 

Stiles knew deep inside that Derek would have met new people, working at the library. He talks about them when they have dinner with the Sheriff and Stiles tries hard not to fall for him even more. Derek hates the girls who look for YA novels, because he doesn’t know what those books are about and he has to use the computer to look for them. On the other hand, he loves the ladies who ask for old books, the ones Derek has read and knows word by word. He can talk with them and share his opinions, and by the end of week two he always comes home with a bag full of pies.

“They love you,” Stiles says. He’s eating a particularly delicious apple pie all on his own, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He has had a bad day at school and he has decided to drown his sorrows in the sweet taste of the pie Derek brought home.

Derek shrugs. “I’m getting better with the computer. Now I can find John Green without any help,” he says, changing the subject. “Today a girl asked for one of his books and I didn’t even have to look. I’m pretty sure she had already read that one, though.”

“I bet she only comes to see you,” Stiles says. He throws the empty plate on the floor and flops down on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks. He smells the air around Stiles, sensing his distress. “What happened?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Nothing bad. Just—you know, the usual,” he whispers. “Aiden was a dick to me. He thinks he’s better than me because he’s with Lydia... like I still care about that.”

“He’s making fun of you?” Derek growls. His eyes flash red for a moment before he looks at Stiles again.

“He only tells the truth. You know, me and Scott were always together the first two years of high school. He really got me, and I guess that’s what a best friend is supposed to do. But then it’s like he grew up—he found a girlfriend, he got a new motorbike and he works a regular job. Me? I’m still the weird Sheriff’s kid.”

“What’s a motorbike?” Derek asks. He’s trying to lighten up the mood and he succeeds when Stiles cracks an half-smiles and sighs.

“Then there’s you, who think it’s okay to show up naked in the middle of the woods while I’m there. You changed my life for the better, Derek Hale. You should know that,” Stiles says, turning his head to look at Derek. Their eyes lock and Stiles can’t look away. He wants Derek so bad that he almost stands up and kisses him.

“You saved me. Literally, Stiles,” Derek says. “I already told you that but... I don’t know where I’d be without you or your Dad.”

Derek lays on the bed next to Stiles and throws an arm across Stiles’ chest, turning on his side. Derek watches him until Stiles finally falls asleep.

 

+++

 

Scott elbows Stiles in the ribs and Stiles’ head jerks up, zooming in on his Jeep in the parking lot of the Beacon Hills High-School. Perched on the hood of his car there’s Derek, dressed with this look he really seems to like: thigh jeans and a simple shirt with a leather jacket. Derek nods at Scott and half-smiles at Stiles, crossing his arms on his chest.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were working!” Stiles says, stepping closer to Derek. Scott puts a hand on his shoulder to let him know that he has to go, Allison is waiting for him on the other side of the parking lot. Stiles waves him off and turns to Derek again.

“I just thought we both deserved a day off,” Derek says. “But I needed your car to get away from this town, so here I am.”

“Oh, so you’re using me.”

“I planned this day for you, actually.”

Stiles stares at Derek in shock. “For me? What did I do to deserve Derek Hale’s attention?”

“You seemed a little down yesterday. I just wanted to cheer you up.”

Stiles shrugs, throwing his back pack in his car. He’s trying so hard not to smile that his cheeks are hurting. “What did you plan?”

Derek wants to go to the beach. Stiles tries to explain that it’s not exactly a short trip, but he doesn’t seem to care, so they end up at one small beach Stiles remembers from his childhood. It’s deserted –obviously— because it’s not summer, yet, even if the air is warm and the ocean seems calm. It turns out Derek has found two beach towels in Stiles’ closet and the Sheriff helped him prepare their lunch.

“My Dad knows about this?” Stiles asks, swallowing down the sandwich Derek hands him.

“Yeah, he helped me with this,” Derek says, gesturing to their little pic-nic, “and he said we have to be back at a decent hour. You still have school tomorrow.”

They eat in silence and then they lay down on their towels, enjoying the warm rays of the sun on their skin. Stiles forgets about the awful day he had only twenty-four hours before and listens to the seagulls and to the crash of the waves on the sand. The wind ruffles his hair and he breathes in, deep. When he exhales, Derek is straddling him, smirking down at him like the wolf he is.

“We could swim,” Derek says. “It’s not that cold.”

Stiles can’t breathe or talk, so he nods. He has nowhere to hide his blushing face, so he stares at the sky, trying to ignore Derek.

“Unless you don’t want to.”

Stiles shakes his head. “No,no! I want to. I—I have to take my clothes off.”

Derek smirks again and stands up. He rids himself of his clothes and stands naked right in front of Stiles, not even blushing. Stiles snorts, raising on his feet. “I know you have no problems about being naked in a very public place, but at least you could try not to be smug about it,” Stiles says, throwing his clothes beside Derek’s. He keeps his boxers on once again and Derek eyes them like he wants to tear them apart. When Derek dips down in the water, he disappears for so long that Stiles starts to panic, looking around himself, trying to spot Derek. That’s when Derek emerges behind him, locking his arms around Stiles’ waist and dragging him down. When Stiles comes up, wiping salty water from his eyes, Derek is laughing so hard that he falls on his back into the water.

“You asshole! The water is cold as fuck!” Stiles says, laughing despite himself. If he stays with his body underwater, he doesn’t shiver so much. “I’d like to remember you that I’m not a werewolf.”

“Oh, I know. You should have seen you face. I bet you though it was a shark or something like it.”

“I thought you were dead. How long can you stay underwater?”

“A lot longer than you.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. When he looks down, Derek has disappeared once again under the water. Stiles waits, swimming in lazy circles, until Derek reappears in front of him. In his hands, there’s a multi-coloured starfish. It’s orange and red and brownish, and Stiles stares at it like Derek is showing him a rare diamond. “Can I touch it?” Stiles asks, already stretching his arm.

“Careful.”

The starfish is smooth at first touch, and its arms move a little when Stiles’ fingers brush it. Derek lets Stiles touch it for a little while more, and then puts the starfish back underwater, where it belongs. They watch together as the waves bring the starfish away into the ocean, and when they look up again, they can’t tear their eyes off each other. Stiles swims closer and Derek grabs him and bends his legs underwater, pulling him in his lap.

When Derek finally kisses him, Stiles feels powerful and like he could conquer the world, because Derek tastes salty and he’s kissing Stiles like he’s hungry. And maybe he is, after all those years spent in a non-human form. Stiles feels Derek’s arms circle his waist to keep him in place, and Stiles slides closer, opening his mouth even more when Derek’s tongue presses on his lips. When Stiles pulls away for air, Derek keeps kissing his neck, licking and biting where Stiles’ skin is wet and salty.

“I tried not to show how I felt about you,” Derek says between a kiss and the other. Stiles gasps and holds on to Derek’s shoulder, closing his eyes when Derek bites him again. “I didn’t want to drag you into the mess I already am. But you’re so—you’re you. And I can only stop myself for so long.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Stiles manages to say. Derek buries his head into Stiles’ shoulder and sighs. “I don’t, either. Stiles, I feel like I’ve known you forever. And the more I know, the more I want to learn.”

Stiles gives himself a moment to answer. He cards his fingers through Derek’s hair while he talks, smiling when the werewolf hums into his shoulder. “How is this even possible? Why do you know so much about me?”

“You don’t want to?”

“No! I-I want to. I want you to know everything about me. Well, maybe not everything...but you know what I mean. But, think about it, Derek! My mum died years before you even showed up in the woods! My dad quit drinking six years ago... I just don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” Derek says. “But we can make new memories, right? Memories that involve the both of us.”

Stiles smiles and kisses him again. “Of course we can. Let’s start now.”

They walk out on the water and lay on the towels they left on the beach. Derek is on top of Stiles in a matter of seconds, and they kiss and kiss and kiss until the sun starts to go down. That’s when Derek’s head jerks up from Stiles’ neck and says, “We have to go back or you dad is going to kill me.”

They drive back to Beacon Hills in silence. Stiles’ cheeks are red from the sun and his eyes burn because of the salty water. His hair is a mess and Derek’s isn’t so much better. When they park in the Stilinski’s driveway, Derek gives him another kiss. “Come on. I can hear you father grumbling in the kitchen.”

The Sheriff seems surprised that they’re back in the time for dinner, and says nothing when he sees the mess of Stiles’ hair or his red lips. Derek helps Stiles’ dad with the dinner while Stiles showers and when they’re all seated an uncomfortable silence falls over them. Stiles can’t stop moving his leg under the table until Derek’s hand stops him.

“So,” the Sheriff says. “How was your day?”

Stiles starts telling him about the beach where they used to go with his Mom and about the starfish Derek caught for him. He talks about the weather and the ocean and the sand, carefully avoiding talking about the kiss. Or kisses. At the end of the dinner, the Sheriff seems happy.

“I’m glad you boys had a good day,” he says. “ You both deserved it.”

Stiles and Derek smile at each other and help the Sheriff with the dishes.

 

+++

 

_Beacon Hill’s woods, California._

_March 14, 2007._

_Stiles falls to the ground, sobbing so hard that he has trouble breathing. He knows that his father and Scott are looking for him everywhere, but he also knows that they won’t ever find him here. The clearing in the woods is Stiles’ secret hiding place and the huge willow in the middle of it is Stiles’ silent confidant every time the words get stuck in his throat or he has no one to talk to. This time though, he doesn’t think that spending the afternoon in the woods will be much help. All he has done all day is cry._

_His mother died today and Stiles can’t even begin to think about his life without her. Who will take Stiles to school every morning? His Dad works almost all day at the police station. Who will stay at home with Stiles, making sure that he does his homework and doesn’t zone out in front of the tv? Who will make him soup when he’s sick and hot chocolate when he gets a good grade?_

_His sobbing doesn’t seem to stop. Stiles isn’t even sure that his eyes will stop watering in the near future. All he knows is that he misses his mom and that he doesn’t want to go home, yet. So he nestles between the willow’s big roots and watches the woods go dark around him._

 

+++

 

 

It’s a Thursday night, and the Sheriff has a shift at the station. The house is so silent that Stiles could hear every single noise if Derek wasn’t on top of him, his hands shoved under Stiles’ shirt. Or if Derek wasn’t completely naked. Stiles’ bed squeaks under their weight and  the neighbours’ dog barks. Derek pulls Stiles’ shirt off and goes back to kissing him and biting down at his neck.

“God, Derek,” Stiles says. “I have school tomorrow. I can’t go around with hickeys or the marks of your teeth on my neck.”

“At least that Danny guy will stop looking at you like he wants to eat you.”

“What? I—do you know about-”

Derek looks up and smiles. “Yes, Stiles. I know you had a crush on Danny. I hope you changed your mind.”

“Fuck, this thing about you knowing all my secret thoughts is horrible. Not even Scott knew about Danny!” Stiles says. He rubs Derek’s back and then goes down to his ass, squeezing. “I can assure you I changed my mind, though.”

“Good.”

Derek’s hand slides under Stiles’ sweatpants and Stiles sighs, thrusting up against Derek’s fist. “I-I couldn’t like him anymore. You ruined everyone for me.”

Derek seems to like what Stiles said, because he kisses Stiles hard and speeds his rhythm, getting Stiles closer to the edge. He slows the kiss when Stiles gasps for air and mumbles in his ear until the boy comes on his chest. Only then Derek rolls of him and lays down on the bed they’re sharing, looking smug.

“That was the most amazing thing that ever happened to me. Just so you know,” Stiles says, straddling Derek’s waist. “What are we going to do about you, now?”

“We could-”

Stiles’ phone interrupts Derek, and Stiles rolls off the bed quickly, a look of worry on his face. Nothing good ever happens when the phone rings in the middle of the night. “It’s my dad,” Stiles says, fishing the phone from the pocket of his jeans. “Dad? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, kid,” the Sheriff answers. “I just need you to come pick me up at Deaton’s. I was patrolling with Parrish when we saw a dog in the middle of the road. It was bleeding, so Alan is taking care of it.”

Stiles sighs in relief. “What about your car?”

“I told Parrish to keep the car so he could keep patrolling,” the Sheriff says. “So I’m kind of stuck here. Sorry if I woke you up.”

Next to him, Derek grins and passes a hand through Stiles’ hand. Stiles bats his hand away.

“Are you kidding? I’ll be there in ten.”

 

+++

 

Deaton needs only five minutes to understand that Derek is a werewolf.

The way every single cat at the animal clinic starts mewling is a big hint. The way Derek can seem to calm the dog the Sheriff has found is another one. More importantly, the way he clings to Stiles when they first enter the clinic, too overwhelmed by the new smells around him. None of them says anything, because the Sheriff is still there with them and they can’t really talk. Stiles drives back home, and Derek joins him into his bed when he’s almost falling asleep.

“Deaton knows about you,” Stiles yawns. “We have to talk to him. Maybe he can help you understand what happened the night of the fire.”

Derek scowls and turns on his side, his back to Stiles. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Stiles kisses his bare shoulder and then the tattoo that Derek has between his shoulder blades. “Don’t you want to know? I mean, don’t you want to know why you spent so many years in a non-human form and then turned back?”

Derek nods. “Fine, we’re going to Deaton tomorrow.”

 

+++

 

When they walk into the animal clinic, Deaton is bent over a little white cat with three legs. “I was waiting for you,” he says, smiling at Derek. “Stiles, I suppose you know about werewolves if you’re here with us today.”

“I do.”

“Perfect. What’s your name?” he asks Derek.

“I’m Derek Hale,” he says, looking at Stiles while Deaton keeps checking the cat. “I- I was wondering if you could help me understand what happened to me a long time ago.”

They go over the story again. Stiles sits on a stool while Derek paces around the room, telling Deaton about Katherine and the other hunters. He tells him how desperate he was and how he had wanted to survive to avenge his pack. “But now years have gone by, and the responsible for the death of my family are dead. I can’t do anything, anymore.”

For the first time, the weight of the years spent as a tree in the woods seems to have an impact on him. His shoulders slumps forward and his face grows sad. His nose twitches, like he’s about to cry. Stiles stretches his arm and takes his hand, trying to comfort him.

“You’re right, Derek. You used a great power to save yourself, but this same power has taken something from you. The opportunity to avenge your pack,” Deaton says, placing the cat into his little cage. “What did you turn into?”

“A tree,” Stiles interjects. He rubs his thumb across Derek’s knuckles and tries to smiles. “A big, beautiful willow.”

Derek smiles back at him and squeezes his hand. “He’s right. I started to remember something from when I was in that form, but I’m afraid trees think in a different way than humans. Everything was slow and calm, and my primary need was to have the sun on my leaves. I remember the changing of the seasons and the birds on my branches. Most of all, I remember Stiles.”

“What about him?” Deaton asks. He looks at their intertwined hands with a calculating look.

“Well, I remember him sitting against my trunk. I remember him reading or studying for a test. But also—I remember what he was thinking while he was in the woods. I never met his mother, but I know everything about her. I knew what his friends looked like before I even saw them.”

“Interesting,” Deaton says. “I have a theory about this, if you’re willing to hear me out.”

“Of course we are!” Stiles says, almost jumping down of his stool. “Why does Derek know all those things about me?”

Deaton sighs and joins his hands in front of him. “When Derek resorted to the old connection that werewolves used to have with nature, he didn’t really know what he was doing. His mother might have told him stories about ancient magic, but he never tried it until the moment when he needed it the most. He turned into a tree mostly using his instinct. Once he actually was a tree, he didn’t know how to shift back...simply because he never learned.”

Stiles shakes his head. “So, how did he finally shifted back into a human?”

“This is where you, Stiles, played a major role,” Deaton says. “You said you spent a lot of time in the clearing where Derek was, right?”

“Yes. I used to sit under the tree—under Derek, whatever.”

“Well, let’s say that Derek just needed some more strength to shift back. He couldn’t find it as a tree, so he took it from you.”

“From me?”

“Yes, Stiles. Derek absorbed all your emotions and all your feelings. Everything you thought about while you were in the clearing, Derek used it to become more powerful,” Deaton pauses and looks at them. “That’s why Derek knows so much about you. You were the one who told him. Involuntarily, of course.”

Derek sits on the stool next to Stiles and squeezes his hand. “So, Stiles was the one who gave me enough strength to shift back?”

“That’s correct. Emotions and feelings are powerful things, and you used them to shift back.”

Derek and Stiles share a confused look while Deaton grabs the dog the Sheriff found on the road and pats him on the head. They can’t talk now, not when they finally found out the reason of the strong connection they shared from the first moment they met. Not when the only thing they want is to be alone in Stiles’ room but Deaton is still there with them.

Deaton clears his voice, making them snap back to reality. When they look at the vet, he’s smiling down at the dog. “Oh, and Derek. You said you were a Hale. I might have a little surprise for you.”

 

+++

 

In the next three days, Stiles only sees Derek when he climbs into their bed in the middle of the night, after spending the whole day with Deaton, learning about his family. Deaton’s ancestors used to be the emissaries for the Hale’s pack, but their duty ended when they thought the Hale pack was extinct.

“They didn’t know I was still alive, so they didn’t really have anything to do anymore. Deaton’s great-great-great- granddad was the last of his family who worked for us. After the fire, they couldn’t do anything but keep our secrets safe,” Derek tells Stiles the third night. He looks tired and he has dust in his hair and smears of dirt on his cheeks. He lays down on the bed next to Stiles and climbs on top of him, kissing him deep. “God, I missed you. Deaton’s clinic smells horrible.”

Stiles smiles and buries his face in Derek’s chest. “What kind of secrets?”

“Maybe it’s better if I show you...tomorrow,” Derek says when Stiles is already halfway pulling himself up from the bed. He shoves Stiles down again and traces Stiles’ lips with his fingers. “I’ve thought about you all day. You’re not running away so easily.”

Their clothes end up on the floor and Stiles finds himself on top of Derek, straddling his legs. “Wait, wait,” Stiles says, leaning towards his drawers to grab the lube. They won’t need condoms, anyway. “We’re going to need this.”

Derek scowls at the bottle and sniffs the air when Stiles opens it. “This is different from what I used,” he says. “But it will do.”

He takes the bottle from Stiles’ hands and sits up against the headboard of the bed. “Have you ever done this to yourself?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Do you even know me?”

Derek snorts and pours the lube on his fingers, reaching for Stiles’ hole and making him gasp. Slowly, he pushes one finger inside, enjoying every single noise Stiles makes. Derek kisses him deep, clenching his hand on Stiles’ hip. “How does it feel?”

“Too...good...to...talk,” Stiles pants, wiggling on Derek’s legs.

Derek takes his time with him. He pushes another finger inside and watches as Stiles’ head falls back and he opens his mouth. “Come on,” Stiles says. “Come on, Derek.”

“Not yet,” Derek says. Stiles’ head falls on Derek’ shoulder when he pushes the third finger inside. Stiles is breathing hard and his breaths make Derek’s skin tingle just below his ear. Stiles keeps moving on his fingers, praying Derek to do something, anything. When Derek pulls his hand away, Stiles whines and kisses Derek’s neck, biting at his collarbone when he takes too much time.

When Derek slides inside him, Stiles has to focus on his breathing properly for a moment. Derek is everywhere: his hands are on Stiles’ hips, his lips are on Stiles’ neck and his dick is inside Stiles. He can feel every single move Derek makes, and they rock together as Derek fucks into him. Stiles knows that Derek is holding back on him, for their first time. He knows that he isn’t using all of his strength, and that thought turns Stiles on even more. His thoughts leave his head when Derek’s hand strokes his cock, his thumb sliding just over the head. It’s the most powerful feeling Stiles has ever had in his whole life, and the best thing is that he feels it every time Derek touches him _there_. Stiles comes all over Derek’s chest, unable to suppress the moan escaping from his mouth.

“I’m so close,” Derek says just a moment later. “ _Stiles_.”

Derek rolls them over and he fucks into Stiles with more strength and more rhythm, grabbing the headboard not to fall over on Stiles’ chest. Derek’s eyes turn red when he comes, and then he pulls off and rolls over, pulling Stiles to his chest. They don’t talk until Stiles breaks the silence.

“So? How was it?” he asks, shooting a worried look at Derek. “It was my first time, so I’m sorry if it wasn’t like you remembered.”

Derek makes Stiles look up with one finger under his chin and kisses him. “It was better. I-I’ve never had sex with someone I cared about.”

Stiles kisses Derek’s shoulder and rolls on top of him, stretching along Derek’s body. He puts his head under Derek’ chin and a silly smiles appears on his lips. “ We should have our song.”

“Our song?”

“Yeah. In every movie, when the couple hear their song they remember about how they met or about something beautiful they shared. We should have that,” Stiles says, grabbing his I-pod from where Derek has left it that morning. He offers one headphone to Derek and puts the other one in his ear. They argue about which song they could choose because Derek wants something super romantic while Stiles wants something deep but funny. They can’t seem to decide until Derek accidentally changes the song they’re listening to and the I-pod starts playing Katy Perry’s _Firework_.

“That’s it!” Stiles yells. Thank god his Dad is working. “This is the first song we listened together. Do you remember? Oh my god, I can’t believe we have a Katy Perry song as _our_ song!”

“We can always choose another one.”

“No way,” Stiles says. “This is perfect.”

 

+++

 

“Derek! Dereeeeek!” Stiles whispers in Derek’s ear. “Are you awake?”

“No.”

“Come on! I want to know what secrets Deaton was talking about!” Stiles says. “He’s always so cryptic.”

Derek huffs and rolls off the bed, leaving Stiles’ under the covers. “Fine, we’re going. Promise me you’re not going to freak out.”

 

Stiles freaks out. “Your family had a vault?” he asks, looking around the huge room Derek is showing him. There are shelves and shelves full of objects belonging to the Hale pack. Stiles finds old photos of Derek’s ancestors and lots of little bottles full of strange lotions and powders. “This is amazing, Derek! You didn’t know about this?”

“Only the Alphas knew about the vault. I’m the Alpha now, so Deaton told me. But that’s not it,” Derek says. He grabs Stiles’ hand and drags him to the centre of the room, where a safety-box is. Derek types in a code and quickly opens it, showing Stiles what’s inside. Stiles’ mouth falls open when he takes in the piles of money and gold inside the box. He turns to Derek. “Do you even know-”

“Yes,” Derek says. “It’s a lot of money.”

“Derek!” Stiles exclaims. “This means you can finally have the life you want! You could... you could even buy your own house,” Stiles says. He looks down at his shoes. “I’ll miss you.”

“Ehy,” Derek says. “I’m not going anywhere. Even if I buy a new house, this doesn’t change anything.”

“Are you sure?” Stiles asks. “Why would you want to stay here? You can do whatever you want with this money, Derek. Do you really want to stay in Beacon Hills?”

“I thought about this. You’re leaving for college soon, so I won’t be in Beacon Hills anyway.”

“What?”

Derek takes Stiles’ hand. “I want to move wherever you are, Stiles. If you want me to, I already looked some apartments near Berkley,” Derek says. “I googled them,” he says with pride.

“Are you serious?” Stiles says. “Oh my god, I need a moment. You’re really ready to leave Beacon Hills for me?”

“Well, I can’t watch Star Wars on my own, right?”

“Don’t you dare,” Stiles says. He locks his hands behind Derek’s neck and kisses him, pressing his whole body against Derek’s. “Oh my god, my Dad will freak out so much. He still thinks you’re some sort of amnesiac.”

“Well, we have the whole summer to explain everything to him,” Derek says, kissing Stiles back. “Maybe it’s better if we wait after your graduation.”

 

+++

 

When they tell the Sheriff about werewolves and hunters and everything that Derek and Stiles shared in the past months, he doesn’t believe them. He keeps shaking his head in disbelief until Derek shifts and forces him to change his mind. Stiles expects questions about werewolves’ culture, or about how such a thing as werewolves can even exist. He doesn’t expect for his Dad to say, “So, Derek. How old are you, exactly? Because I’m not stupid and I noticed how you two look at each other.”

Derek shoots a look at Stiles, and when the boy nods Derek finally talks. “I was born 139 years ago,” he says quickly. “But I didn’t age when I was a tree. Well, I aged, but in a different way. I still look like a twenty-three years old, right?”

“139?” the Sheriff says. “Oh my god. _Stiles_.”

“Ehy, how is this my fault?”

The Sheriff shakes his head. “I’ll need time to wrap my mind around all of this. And don’t think you two can buy me with money,” he says, pointing at the bag full of money that Derek decided to give Stiles’ dad.

“I just wanted to say thank you for your help, sir,” Derek says. “Money won’t ever cover all you did for me.”

The Sheriff stands up and hugs Derek. “I’m happy for you, kid. You deserve to begin a new life.”

“I think I’m off to a good start,” Derek says. He tightens his hold on the Sheriff and pulls Stiles closer. He drops a kiss to Stiles’ hair, earning a wink from the kid. “Yeah. A great start, actually.”

 

+++

 

_One year later_

 

It’s their last night in Berkley before they go back to Beacon Hills for the summer. Stiles dragged Derek to a party that everyone on campus is attending, and the music is so loud that Stiles is having a hard time figuring out what Derek’s trying to say. He points to his ears, shaking his head. “I can’t hear a thing.”

Derek leans closer and whispers into his ear. “ I want to dance.”

“Really?”

Derek nods and shoulders his way into the middle of the room, dragging Stiles behind him. They stop when Derek seems to spot a place he likes and they start moving with the music. Derek grabs Stiles’ hips and pulls him closer, their lips barely brushing while they dance. The music is fast and the beat is crazy, and there are a lot of sweaty bodies around them, drunk and happy for the end of another semester. Stiles’ pushes his crotch into Derek’s body and Derek groans and glares at him, but doesn’t step away. Instead, he gives Stiles a dirty and slow kiss, biting his lip just before pulling away: his own personal reward for Stiles’ perfect grades. They keep dancing and moving in their own little bubble of space until the song changes and the crowd goes crazy. _Firework_ starts blasting in the club, and everyone starts jumping and singing around them.

Stiles and Derek don’t feel the need to talk or yell over the music. They share a look in the chaos of the party, and for just a moment they’re back to Stiles’ room. They just had sex for the first time and Stiles is happily scrolling through the songs on his I-pod, trying to find the right one for them. Derek is snorting and huffing under him, but he’s so happy that his heart is pounding against his ribcage. Stiles is happy too, laughing and moving over Derek, one headphone inside his ear and his long fingers fiddling with the I-pod.

They kiss in the middle of the club, turning off the noise around them. Having their own song is good, sure, but Derek doesn’t think that they’ll ever need Katy Perry to remember every single moment they shared together.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
